


Postscript

by justlikeabaroness



Series: Folie à Deux [10]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8312851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeabaroness/pseuds/justlikeabaroness
Summary: A coda of sorts.





	

_Two Weeks Later._

The Chinese man sits at the security desk newly installed outside the Yangcheon-gu town hall, listlessly trying to practice his Korean. The funeral of Wu Yifan had been a complicated affair, with people coming from seemingly everywhere in China and even a few from overseas. After that had finished, the acting lead had ordered the installation of security desks at the front and back doors, as well as metal detectors in the main entrance. The guard isn't sure if that will bring more people to the tong hall, or keep them away. 

After all, the tong had come under such scrutiny when that hideous affair with the trafficked women had come out in the press. It had bothered him, especially since he recognized some cop - that wasn't a damned cop, that was Qiāng Yǐ. He'd known Qiāng Yǐ when he used to volunteer here. But since the recent bad publicity, he hadn't shown up again. 

The guard shakes his head, thinking of the past few weeks. You can't trust anyone nowadays, he knows. The press had been awful - that Park, over at _Chosun Ilbo_ , had really made the tong sound like a den of villainy. He'd won some kind of award for covering that mess - covering, sure; the guard snorts. More like doing a hatchet job! He'd even come here asking for Zhang xiānshēng once, but that gentleman hasn't been back in a while, either, and the guard had taken great pleasure in telling the nosey reporter about that.

As he settles back down with his Korean magazine, he hears footsteps coming up from the street. Looking up, he sees a short man with a grim look on his narrow face, intent on something. Yet his mouth is curved into something that's almost a smirk. 

The guard stands, asking in Korean, "May I help you?"

The man doesn't pause. "I have business." He's clutching a bundle of papers, and he doesn't even spare the guard a look. 

Of course, that isn't allowed. "Hey. Sir, you need to state that business." He reaches out to grab the man's arm, just to slow him down, but he's rebuffed; the man shakes free and keeps walking. "Sir!"

Finally, the man, who by his accent is Korean, stops. In a firm voice, he recites a phrase that sends the guard cringing back like an obsequious courtier. "Sorry," he manages. "I'm sorry, lǎobǎn. I had no idea." This Korean man knows the succession oath, which is recited on the death of a leader by the man taking power. How does he know? "Have preparations been made to transfer power?" To a _Korean_?

"I have power." The Korean tells him. "I have access to the accounts, I have access to the operations. I know every secret Wu kept. I know who killed him, and his killer gave me everything I needed in a letter. I don't need a ritual to tell me I now run this place." His tone is clipped, but there is genuine pain in his eyes, and the guard wonders just what happened to put this man here.

Out loud, he tries to ask. "I don't ... How?"

"It's irrelevant. I'm not a Triad," the Korean says simply. "I'm not going to be a Triad. But this place is going to shift its focus a little, because power was ceded to me." His tone isn't challenging or angry, just matter-of-fact. "Byun Baekhyun might be gone, but his people are still there, and they need to be just as gone. There's only room for one power in this town, and if it has to happen this way, so fucking be it. I tried it the legit way, and all I got was agony."

The guard still feels lost, trying to remember who this might be, because Boss Wu employed a few Koreans, but not many. Finally he simply asks, "What should your staff call you, lǎobǎn?"

"Kim." The Korean says. "Kim Jongdae." 

The guard allows him inside wordlessly, opening the door to the leader's office. Regime changes are common, even if it's strange that this is a Korean. Such, after all, is life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for reading and loving this series. I have adored writing it, and there's no guarantee I won't play around in this universe in the future. I've gotten some really kind comments on these stories, and I'm profoundly grateful. Stick around for more EXO fic in the future - I've got some interesting ideas that will be fun to explore.


End file.
